The Court of Godless Souls
by CrimsonRose456
Summary: A nun remembers her former life as both an aristocrat and a gypsy. An aristocrat had a life of leisure, but life in the Court of Miracles was not something of leisure - everyone pulled their weight to survive. Book based, with few Disney characters. OCxOC
1. Chapter 1

**Beta by LazyChestnut!**

My cries echo my stone cloister, my prayers go unanswered as I pray fervently to God to save my soul and my husband's from eternal damnation – basking in Hell's light as Clopin married us in front of the other gypsies in his Court of Miracles and not in a Church. God would decree my husband and I sinners. Sinners!

I lived through the attack of Notre Dame that was to save our sister gypsy La Esmeralda from the clutches of the Court of Parliament. Those who went were slaughtered by the deformed bell ringing devil who threw down stone and wood beams and showering us with melted lead – the raindrops of Hell! The women and children fought like savage cats upon the horses and the men in the king's troops with such brutality that I had ever witnessed.

I watched Clopin himself fight with a scythe, cutting the legs of the horses in a frightful rage and leaving a bloody and horrid trail of blood and severed limbs as he sang a ditty at the top of his voice. I did not see his death, but I saw a man with an arquebus fire at him before I was nearly trampled by a stampeding horse.

I know not of who else lived. Every beggar who had managed to survive fled in all sorts of directions as we were overwhelmed by the troops and the musket fire. Many were trampled if they tripped, their heads crushed by feet and hooves; others were shot by the arquebuses or made their way to the Court safely. La Esmeralda surely lived and did not get into the Parliament's clutches! She is too lovely to die by the hangman's noose.

I am Nicolette de Marchand – noblewoman, wife of a gypsy (he was too absorbed with his dead first wife and his music to care for me) and a nun at the Abbey of Saint-Antoine des Champs – witness all of my downfalls before I wither away and dwell in where ever God dare chooses, if He listened to my prayers or not.

**Author's Note:** An arquebus is an early muzzle-loaded firearm from the 15th century.

Review, if you may – I'm open to suggestions of _any_ improvement.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Beta by the awesome LazyChestnut!**_

_February 1482_

One month after the Pope of Fools had been crowned, Laurent de Villiers navigated the crowded the streets of Paris and cantered towards the Rue de Parvis, slowing his horse to a trot as it neared a stately home architectured in the Gothic style. The home lacked a balcony, but Laurent could see the excited face of young Olympe de Marchand peering out of the window. She was watching something, but clearly not him.

-

Dame Lucréce looked surprised at the sudden visit of Laurent, but the older woman suspected he had come to see her oldest daughter Nicolette and inquire of her health as Laurent entered the room and greeted her.

Nicolette looked up and bowed her head to Laurent in greeting as she twirled a needle between her fingers, wondering how such a delicate yet dangerous instrument could be tamed with a lady's hands. The sun's rays shined on it and made it gleam, a winking diamond with all of its glory and magnificence that could drive any man to greedy madness.

"Your cousin, Laurent--is she not the fairest creature you set your eyes on?" Dame Lucréce asked her nephew as she eyed her oldest daughter with an observant eye. Laurent's gaze followed hers and his eyes settled upon a stray lock of reddish gold hair which had fallen out of the confines of the veil and coif.

"My cousin is a radiant creature indeed, my dear aunt, and can certainly rival anyone in virtue; but Mademoiselle Diane de Christeuil is a fairer creature then she. However, her laugh is something to be tolerated, to an extent." Laurent replied, distaste in his voice as he said the second statement. He heard Lucréce inhale sharply, her large eyes bulging at the very thought that Laurent didn't find his cousin the fairest creature who walked the cobblestones of Paris.

"Mademoiselle de Christeuil is a barely tolerable woman in company, even though she is gifted with a virtuous and comely appearance, which should help her if she is married off to a wealthy gentleman," Lucréce stated stiffly, throwing a cross glance at Laurent.

The young man gave her a reproachful look before walking over to stand at Nicolette's left, where the young woman was sitting on a stool delicately carved with flowers. He did not regret his comment of Diane being fairer then her as he watched her fingers navigate the needle in and out of the tapestry she was working on with her sister Olympe. Olympe, who was thirteen, had abandoned her work and was peering out of a window nearby, fascinated with something outside.

"Olympe, is there something outside that holds your gaze so? You haven't been helping me with your fine hand for nearly an hour," Nicolette inquired, raising her eyes to look at her brunette sister.

Olympe did not answer her sister for a moment. A few minutes later she ejaculated excitedly, "Nicolette, look how these gypsy women dance and twirl. They are like fairies walking upon the air!"

Laurent chuckled softly and grinned, amused at the young girl's antics as her doe like eyes widened with amazement. He finally understood what the girl was smiling at and cursed himself for not seeing the gypsies before. However, Laurent could faintly hear the gay music of a flute and the faint twinkling of bells and wondered if the gypsy La Esmeralda had returned, but he could not hear her tambourine's sonorous sound or the bleating of her goat.

From her stool, Nicolette stabbed her needle into the tapestry and stood up, joining Olympe at the window and somewhat eager to see if she too could be fascinated with what was occurring on the streets. Dressed alike in blue damask gowns, the two sisters looked at each other with affectionate glances as Olympe chattered on excitedly, pointing at the two women dancing upon an ancient Persian rug. Nicolette only looked mildly interested, but she bit her tongue to prevent herself from saying scornful words.

Dame Lucréce watched this little scene with a bland look upon her features, irritated at Olympe for her adoration of the gypsies and at Nicolette for not reprimanding her younger sister for it. Though her youngest had not began her monthly blood, Lucréce was determined to steer her daughter away from her adoration of the gypsies and show her how terrible they were, disease ridden people whom lived off the filth of the street.

The older woman's dull grey eyes soon observed Laurent, who had remained standing near Nicolette's stool. Laurent had been frail in his youth, but time spent within the garrison had made him stronger in both health and body. His curly brown hair and kind green eyes made Lucréce remember her grandfather, who Laurent had inherited his looks from.

Sensing that he was being watched, Laurent pressed his lips together and looked towards his aunt. He ignored the chatter of his two cousins and walked over to her, standing at her right for what seemed like hours before he stated,

"I did not come here to just see how my betrothed was fairing. I also came to inquire upon my uncle's health, Aunt Lucréce."

"My dear husband has been afflicted with the most terrible aches and pains. He cries out whenever someone touches him, and he refuses my steadfast and amiable company. I have asked a priest to come to have my husband confess his sins before he is admitted into the Garden of Heaven, and the priest has agreed. He is to come tomorrow," Lucréce replied.

"Is it to be the Archdeacon whom Mathis confesses to?" Laurent asked.

"No, it is not. A bishop is to come instead, but I pray every night that this pain will leave Mathis. I have borne him two daughters and have been a devoted wife – it will hurt me greatly if he does not live to see a son born into our noble family," Lucréce said as Nicolette left Olympe's side and sat down once more upon her stool.

"Fair cousin," Laurent asked Nicolette, "was what Olympe describing not pleasing to your eyes?"

"Her descriptions of the gypsies and having me watch them were pleasing, but they have left. They were not getting enough money for their entertainment," Nicolette answered sweetly, smiling as the weak February sun shined on her pale hand. She had taken up her needle once more and was working on the tapestry, a large corner of it on her lap. A disheartened Olympe soon joined her, taking up another corner and starting to work.

"I see," Laurent stated, smiling slightly. His marriage to Nicolette was to occur when she turned nineteen, less then nine months away, but Laurent couldn't help but feel a pang of nervousness. His feelings for her did not extend beyond a tender friendship, and judging from her comments it was clear that this was the way she viewed their relationship as well.

_This union is only a business matter arranged to my benefit_, Laurent thought, _I can only hope that it is successful in that aspect and perhaps more._

**Author's Note:** I offer nothing but this fic and ask for reviews, both constructive and supportive.


End file.
